I don’t have a typical mother relationship with my mom. Exaggerated by the fact that I grew up separated from her, I feel I grew up courting her approval in a way that I never had to do with my dad. We are so alike in many ways, my mom. We share the same birth month (only 6 days apart). We both fall under the chinese zodiac, Horse. We share the same passion for work and family. So you would imagine that I have me as my own mother.
We hide our true feelings (on guard always). We are addicted to work (no rehab for us). We both love to travel. We are earnest with our spirituality. We weep at our own sad stories. Our houses are filled with sentimental icons that only we understand why. We love like martyrs. Our health fails us when we are stressed. We push people to the edge and most of all we love the sound of keyboards clicking as we chat long distance. We think with our fingers typing.
You might believe it is easy to have a melt down with someone you know so well (like a second skin) but a hug can be awkward between us. No fibs. Touching does make one vulnerable and I’d rather keep that safe distance. Accepting the fact that I was conceived at a time when hell broke lose between my dad and grandmother, I never felt a lack of love though. Mommy was always there to support me despite hormonal episodes during my teenage years (didn’t we all).
Funny how I prayed my life would take a turn different from the path Mom took. (a nomad perhaps, anything different to what she has done) Yet, I find myself trekking the corporate slave world just like she did. We joke about how much our lives have become a twin of sorts. I am closest to her when we are miles apart while I clam up when we are face to face. Like a string, it is family that keeps us together – my sister, dad, my sons, my aunts, my uncle. It is their lives that makes it to our conversation.
Being far from home, I realized after a lot of analyzing (as if), that our email exchanges are far more intense than the kisses and hugs that I have longed for. We have made up for lost time. When I say I love her, I meant it more than when I say this to her during Mother’s day in Cebu. Distance is the curative to the yearnings of a daughter. I now have her on chat every time I get home (whereas we only had Sundays to spare in Cebu). I feel her now because we chat openly, we have loosened up and let our guards down. We take care not to cross the line we know we should not cross. Our delicate space. We are comfortable this way, us Horse March born.
And why am I writing this down? Because like the sun and moon, love after all cannot be contained. Despite the oddity with my relationship with Mom, I do love her profoundly and I mean it. We just have a one of a kind way of showing it. =)
